


A Promise

by railise



Category: Robin Hood BBC
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-11
Updated: 2010-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/railise/pseuds/railise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-S1; John has a difficult message to deliver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Treat Little John Right](http://community.livejournal.com/treatljohnright) at LiveJournal.

  
Reluctantly, John raised his hand and knocked on the cottage door. He had no idea how he was going to say what he needed to, but somebody had to do it-- and, he had made a promise.

Alice opened the door and looked up at him. Clearly surprised to see him, she nonetheless smiled warmly. "Hello, John." Then, worry came over her face. "Do you know where my father is? He should have been home for supper, but he's not yet arrived."

Torn between the instincts to flee and not have to face this situation, and skip the worst and merely promise her that everything would be all right, he did neither. Instead, he quietly asked, "May I come in? I need to speak with you."

Staring at him in dawning comprehension, Alice took a moment before nodding and stepping back. "Of course."

He had to duck under the low entryway, and glanced around once he was inside. He had been a guest there countless times, Robert having invited him to share a meal after they had finished work for the day. The house was simple, like his own, but warmer; it was a home, whereas his was merely a place he slept. Much of that was due to Alice's influence, but some of it was from the relationship between herself and her father. A family dwelled there.

Or, it had, until today. Gesturing toward the chair near the hearth, John suggested, "Why don't you sit down?"

Blue eyes flashed in annoyance, though the expression was softened by the dampness brimming along her lower lids. "Just say what you need to say."

Fighting back tears himself, he did. "Alice... There was an accident." She shook her head in denial, but he needed to finish now that he had begun. "A pack mule spooked, and your father could not get out of the way."

"No," she whispered, the tears now streaming down her cheeks. With a sudden breath, she wiped away the moisture on her face and went over to the door, snagging a shawl off the hook on the wall beside the doorframe. "Take me to him," she demanded.

Laying a tentative hand on her shoulder, he stopped her. "It's too late," he said reluctantly. "He's gone."

She broke down then, and he drew her to himself, unable to hold back all of his sorrow as he did what he could to absorb hers. When she calmed enough that she might hear what needed to tell her, he led her to the chair he had indicated earlier, and knelt in front of her once she was seated. "I could not get to him in time, but I reached him right afterward. I was holding him when he passed."

"Did he..." She sniffled. "Did he suffer long?"

John shook his head. "No. It was only a minute or two." He paused, letting her collect herself a bit more, and then said, "He asked me to take care of you."

She looked startled. "What?"

"I promised him that I would. I would have done so, anyway; but his last thought was for you. He was so proud of you."

"And I of him."

They were each lost in their thoughts for awhile, until finally, John asked, "Is there someone I could fetch, to stay with you?"

"Would you?"

He eyed the small room doubtfully. Alice had a tiny, separate room to herself in the back, but he was not sure it was right. "Wouldn't you rather have a friend of yours?"

"Please?"

The word was so pathetic, her voice so lost, he could not turn her down. "Very well." He would see if one of the neighbor women would come by, as well, to ensure that no gossip was started; but for awhile, at least, it should be all right.

Her lip trembled, and she nodded. "Thank you. You're a good man, John Little."

Although he knew it was ridiculous, he felt as though a better man could have prevented the death of his oldest friend. He had failed Robert, but he would try not to fail Alice.

"You are a good woman, Alice of Farthing."

Shaking her head, she replied, "I merely do my best."

And so would he.


End file.
